


concentrate and you'll feel me everywhere

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [15]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Colin Farrell is a total cinnamon roll, Colin is a touch-starved stir-crazy bby, Coming In Pants, Dom Original Percival Graves, Dom/sub, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Impact Play, Kinktober, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Riding Crops, Romantic Fluff, Sub Credence Barebone, Threesome - M/M/M, but Credence and Graves fix that reeeeal quick, first time Domming someone, honestly they're all just cinnamon rolls in love, implied switch Colin Farrell, like blink and you'll miss it Daddy Kink, nervous baby Dom Colin Farrell, seriously this is So Soft omg, very light daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: It's a bit of a trip when Colin finds out that his unexpected fictional magic-using roommates are into BDSM. What's even more surprising, however, is when they quite enthusiastically invite him to join them.DAY 15 of KinktoberWritten for prompts:Exhibition/voyeurism| Impact play | Threesome |Macro/Micro
Relationships: Colin Farrell/Original Percival Graves, Credence Barebone/Colin Farrell, Credence Barebone/Colin Farrell/Original Percival Graves, Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Kinktober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	concentrate and you'll feel me everywhere

The way Colin finds out that his unexpected fictional magical roommates are into BDSM is this: The three of them are watching TV together. Credence has been increasingly antsy all day, and it’s gotten worse since they’ve sat down. Colin’s asked him a couple of times if he’s all right and has yet to get a straight answer. 

At one point, Credence leans over and whisper something to Graves. He pulls away, looking anxious, and Graves soothes him by running a hand down his back and giving him a sympathetic nod. Figuring the poor thing is probably hungry or thirsty, but too shy to request food or drink, Colin then takes it upon himself to go upstairs to the kitchen and grab some popcorn, pretzels, and sodas.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting to have occurred in his absence, but when he returns to the rec room not five minutes later, Credence has left his seat and is kneeling on the floor in front of Graves, his head securely pillowed on Graves’ thigh with Graves running a gentle hand through Credence’s hair.

Huh. Well. All right then, that’s new.

When Colin comes around the couch he can see Credence’s face, and one look tells him the younger man is absolutely relaxed, a dreamy cast over his dark eyes. It’s clear he’s immensely enjoying this. Colin shoots a look at Graves, who glares back as if to say, _you got a problem with this?_

To show he does not, in fact, got a problem with this, Colin pointedly sets down the bowl of popcorn in front of Graves, grabs the remote, and plops down on the couch beside him, leaving a healthy cushion of space between them, but close enough to make it clear that nothing about this situation makes him feel nervous or wary. Really, he thinks, as long as Credence is comfortable and happy down there, what does it matter to Colin if he likes to kneel at his husband’s feet?

“Want a root beer?” he says, and hands one over to Graves, who accepts the soda with a look of mingled satisfaction and surprise.

He pretends not to notice later when Graves hand-feeds Credence the popcorn. If it makes him a little hot and bothered, well. They don’t need to know.

~

It’s later on, much later, after Credence has been told (and Graves has found out) about Ezra, and the drinking, and the sex tape, and a few other things Colin had never intended to reveal—after he has made himself painfully and irrevocably vulnerable to them both—that Colin plucks up the courage to ask the question he has been holding onto since that night in the rec room.

“Does he make you?” he asks Credence, who is so startled he nearly drops the pancake batter he’s stirring. “Graves, I mean, does he—ah— _make you_ kneel for him?” Colin swallows hard. “I just—I know it’s none of my business, but—”

“Oh!” Credence realizes what Colin is asking and firmly shakes his head. “No. No, I like that, I really do. It makes me feel…safe. _He_ makes me feel safe.”

“Oh. All right.” Colin puts away the keto pancake mix and gets out some sausage. He turns around to see Credence looking at him closely. “Yeah?”

Credence hesitates a moment and then says, “Nothing. Just…listen, we aren’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Colin says slowly. “Yeah, I know.”

~

He falls into bed with them that very night.

It begins with Credence getting bold and crawling into his lap during the movie. “Um,” Colin begins, a bit anxious, because Graves is _right there._

“We can make you feel safe too,” is all Credence says before his lips are on Colin’s, and suddenly something bursts free that Colin didn’t even realize he had in him and he is _devouring_ Credence, holding him as tightly as he dares and kissing him for all he’s worth. It’s the first make-out he’s had since the virus hit America and he does not want it to end, ever.

He feels hands on his back, in his hair, tickling the back of his neck and tugging at his hair until he’s frantically squirming and moaning. “We want to take you to bed,” Graves whispers in his ear, and Colin _melts._

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I’d like that—”

And then—just like that—they’re in bed, clothes coming off at a brisk rate, Graves and Credence taking turns kissing Colin like they’ve been waiting to do it their whole lives. It’s frenzied and messy and absolutely lovely, but also—it’s so _sweet._ He appreciates that, he does; it’s been far too long since he was touched and it’s overwhelming enough just to have someone else’s hands on him. And they understand that, he thinks, because nothing very complicated happens. No slapping or biting or hair-pulling, not even any penetration. Just—touching.

But even that is absolutely incredible. Every touch is preceded by a gentle request for permission, and when he gets the sort of frozen, deer-in-headlights look he knows he does when he isn’t sure what to say or do next, both of them immediately back off. Nothing happens without express consent, certainly not the messy, slippery three-way handjobs they end up exchanging.

Afterwards Colin falls back, exhausted, and then yelps in surprise when a wet cloth brushes his stomach. “I’m sorry.” Graves immediately, contritely draws back. “I should have—I’m sorry, I like to do this. Is that all right?”

 _No one’s ever done this for me before,_ Colin wants to say, by way of explaining why he jumped ten feet at the touch of a washrag. Instead he just nods and lets Graves clean him, then watches him do the same to Credence, who wastes no time in snuggling up to Colin when Graves is done. He lays his head on Colin’s chest and sighs deeply, as if this is just what he was waiting for, and wraps both arms around him like he’ll never let go.

And—oh God. _This._ This is better than the sex. Colin wasn’t aware of just how badly he’s wanted to just hold someone until he _does,_ and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “Thank you,” he whispers, cradling Credence in his arms and breathing in the scent of his hair until he feels his eyes grow heavy.

Graves slides into bed behind Credence and lays an arm over both of them. “Rest now,” he tells Colin gently. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Colin doesn’t need a night to sleep on it, though. He knows what he wants.

~

Things move quickly after that.

It makes no sense, after all, for Colin to leave them in the guest room. Not when he’s got a perfectly nice bed that sleeps three in his own room, and he’s got two people with whom he very much wants to sleep every night.

They reveal more of themselves to Colin over time, and some of it is a little surprising but he never judges them, never asks they hide it from him. Some of it, like the “Daddy” thing, takes a bit of getting used to, but they both assure him he’s allowed, _encouraged_ even, to say no to things he doesn’t feel sure of, and he’s surprised at how much _relief_ he feels when Graves pats him on the back and says, “A man’s allowed to have limits, after all.”

And Colin doesn’t ever ask “what am I to you,” because he _knows._ He knows the day Credence carefully wipes up the chalk sigil drawn on the garage floor and when Colin asks him about it he just says, “I think it’s best if we don’t try to leave right now.”

(They have tried, unsuccessfully, a few times. Graves does think they need to get back to their own time, their own dimension. But after that night he makes no mention of looking online for wiccan priestesses or acclaimed psychics who might be able to help.)

And then they just. _Stay._

Every night Colin falls asleep with the two of them and thinks, _what if I wake up tomorrow and they’re gone?_ And every day Credence snuggles into his chest upon awakening and looks up at him through those big eyes and says, _I’m here._ And every morning he goes downstairs to find Graves on his third cup of coffee and Graves says, _we aren’t going anywhere._

And they don’t.

~

“I’m not at all sure about this,” Colin warns his partners, looking down at the riding crop in his hand with the tiniest shiver.

Credence sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at him through eager eyes. Graves stands beside Colin, one hand resting on the small of his back as if to offer support. “That’s all right,” he says soothingly. “It’s natural to be a little apprehensive about this sort of thing.” To Credence he prompts, “Tell him the safeword, sweetheart.”

“Thestral,” Credence says promptly. “And if I can’t talk, squeeze your wrist three times.”

“Very good.” Graves pats Colin’s back once before he lets go. “And that goes for all three of us. If at any time you think this is too much or you can’t go through with it, _use the word,_ understand?”

Colin nods, Credence smiles, and Graves directs Credence to vanish his clothing. “Wait,” Colin says, and they both look at him. “I’d…I’d like to do that, actually.” Graves nods, pleased, and offers him an encouraging smile. This, after all, is supposed to be Colin’s show, even if he as of yet has no idea how to run it.

So he gets down on his knees in front of Credence, who watches with mingled excitement and surprise as Colin takes his time undressing him, tenderly caressing and kissing every patch of skin he uncovers. “Feeling okay?” he asks, aware of how vulnerable it can feel to be naked when everyone else in the room is clothed. “Not cold or anything?”

“Definitely not.” Credence smiles as Colin crawls up into bed beside him and lays him back, and then sighs in pleasure when Colin trails a line of kisses down him from the base of his throat to his navel.

Graves joins them and hands the riding crop to Credence. “Colin, hold out your hand. Credence, show him how hard you want to be hit.”

Credence does exactly that, tapping the crop against the palm of Colin’s hand so that it stings a little but doesn’t _hurt,_ not that much anyway. Prompted by Graves, he tells Colin, “Don’t…don’t, um, make me count, please. I don’t like that.”

Graves nods and hands the crop back to Colin. “This isn’t a punishment scene. Don’t tell him he’s been bad or call him anything degrading. Remember, he _wants_ this. You’re doing this to make him feel good, not to get back at him for some arbitrary misbehavior.”

Colin nods slowly and looks down at Credence, spread-eagled and smiling, naked and completely unashamed of being so. “All right. Then…I’d like you to turn over. Lie on your stomach.” Credence does, and Colin forces in a few deep breaths before he says (and winces because it sounds so lame), “All right, here it comes,” and lightly smacks Credence with the crop.

 _Oh. Oh,_ that’s _why people like this._

He’s not sure which of the factors gets his blood pumping the most: the little _ooh!_ of pleasure that spills from Credence’s lips, the soft _smack_ of the crop hitting the soft, pliant flesh, or the little red mark that only lingers on Credence’s lovely backside for a moment before it fades back into the natural white of his skin.

Of course, the fact that Credence squirms like Colin is blowing him might also have something to do with it. “You like that, love?” he says, reaching down and stroking the place he just hit with his fingertips, making Credence whine. “You want more, baby? Want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please,” Credence murmurs into the bedspread.

So Colin gladly acquiesces. At first he’s still a little timid, and a couple of times both Graves and Credence tell him he needs to hit harder. But he finds a rhythm soon enough. For every “hard” smack, he delivers four or five lighter ones, never delivering too many slaps to one spot, keeping mostly to the fleshiest part of Credence’s backside and the tops of his thighs.

Credence is soon panting and moaning into the sheets, rutting against the bed as he whimpers in pleasure. He’s very, _very_ obviously getting off on this, and Colin finds that immensely gratifying, seeing the way Credence melts a little more with each _smack_ of the crop. And he likes knowing that he can stop it with a single word, if need be. _Last person I did something like this with,_ he finds himself thinking a little grimly, _I could say a hundred words and they’d still not hear me._

He pushes that thought away. It’s not the time to think about that. This is about Credence, who is very clearly enjoying himself. “God, yes, it’s so good,” he moans when Colin asks if he’s all right. “Please don’t stop yet, it feels so nice.”

“This feels nice, does it?” Colin delivers another light smack with the crop. “Are you going to come from this, love? You want to?”

Credence responds with a drawn-out moan. “You don’t have to let him come yet,” Graves tells Colin. “You can make him hold off, make it stronger when you do let him climax.”

But Colin doesn’t want to deny him. After all, as Graves already pointed out, the whole point of this is to make Credence feel good, and that’s just what he plans to do. He could draw it out a little longer, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to force Credence to deny himself pleasure. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Turn over on your back,” he orders Credence. It takes Credence a moment to do it; arousal has made him a little clumsy, but he does manage to turn over. When he does he looks up at Colin through eyes blown black with lust, and Colin can’t help but smile. “Tell me how this feels,” he says, and teases the tip of Credence’s leaking cock with the crop.

 _“Oh!”_ Credence’s back arches, eyes slamming shut as he keens softly. “Oh God, I…I’m so _close…”_

Colin licks his lips at the sight. “Want me to keep going, love?” He gently strokes the crop down Credence’s flushed, hard length again. “Want my mouth, maybe? Or do you want me to keep hitting you?”

Credence drags his eyes open. He looks dazed, thoroughly lost in his own pleasure. “I don’t know,” he whimpers. “God, I—I want—”

“Want to come, baby?” Colin teases him with the crop again, relishing the way Credence moans at the contact. He abruptly draws the crop away and smacks the inside of his thigh. Credence yelps. A pulse of slick fluid drips from the tip of his cock. “Mmm. Looks like you like that.”

“Oh, he does,” Graves murmurs, and Colin turns to see that his eyes have gone dark with lust as he stares hungrily at Credence.

Colin brings the crop down against the inside of the other thigh. Credence arches up again, whimpers and desperate little cries ripping from his throat, and oh God. Colin _wants._ He wants to pin Credence to the bed and ravish every inch of him, make him come again and again until he can’t anymore, until he’s so dazed from pleasure he can barely move. And, Colin realizes as arousal unfurls deep in his belly, he _can._

He puts aside the crop and leans over Credence, licks a stripe up his throat, collecting sweat and what may well be tears on his tongue. He hears Graves openly panting at the sight, reaches down and wraps a hand around Credence’s leaking cock and strokes once, twice, and then bites down on Credence’s neck until he cries out and comes hard, shaking apart in Colin’s arms in a way that makes Colin feel absolutely primal.

“There’s more where that came from,” he whispers against Credence’s sweat-slick skin. “Unless you want me to stop?”

He thinks Credence is going to tell him to stop, that he’s so exhausted he can’t possibly come again. But Credence drags his eyes open, looks at him with something like worship in his eyes, and breathes, “Do whatever you want to me.”

Graves outright moans. “If you don’t,” he tells Colin roughly, “I will.”

“I think I’d like to make him come until he can’t anymore,” Colin says in the same tone one might say _I think I’d like to watch ESPN tonight,_ and both Credence and Graves shiver at the prospect. So Colin wastes no time dropping his mouth to one of those lovely pink nipples, smiling to himself when the over-sensitive Credence nearly screams at the sensation.

He takes his time taking Credence apart again, lavishing every bit of visible skin with kisses and taking special care to lick and nibble at the patches of red from the crop. “Can I scratch, sweet thing?” he asks, and Credence moans out a yes so he does, gently dragging his nails up and down the fleshiest parts of Credence’s thighs and making him squirm. It’s heady and dizzying and incredible, knowing how much pleasure he’s bringing Credence just by touching him.

He goes down on Credence, slow and seductive and teasing, drawing out the pleasure as long as he can until Credence comes down his throat with a cry. Then, before that orgasm has even ended, he probes at Credence’s entrance until Graves gets the hint and makes slick appear, and then he fingers Credence until he actually _screams,_ more cum shooting down Colin’s throat as Credence writhes so hard he nearly throws him off.

As he sits back up, Colin meets Graves’ eyes. “Touch yourself,” he urges Graves, who looks at him in shock. “I mean it, you look like you’re about to burst.” He nods to Graves’ straining cock. “Unless you want me to do something about it?” He knows the feeling; he’s so hard himself he thinks his pants might actually split if he doesn’t do something soon.

Credence makes a soft whining noise, and they both look at him. “Want to see you two,” he pants. “I mean—I want you to—please kiss him, Daddy.”

Graves wastes no time in crawling over to the pair of them, cupping Colin’s face in his hands, and laying a slow, tender kiss on him—right over where Credence lays between them. Colin reaches down and unzips Graves’ pants, draws out the man’s cock and strokes it only a few times before Graves gasps into his mouth, and Colin draws back just a little, just enough to see Graves' cum splatter across Credence’s chest and—oh, that does it, he can’t take any more, and with an agonized little hiss he comes in his pants like a teenager, panting against Graves’ mouth and gripping his shoulders tight.

Credence looks up at them in awe, his eyes wide and glassy. “Oh my God,” he breathes. “Oh my _God._ I never even imagined…” He tries to lift his head, but he’s so worn out he can’t; he’s flushed and sweating and he looks absolutely _perfect._ “I didn’t know it would be like this. That it would be so good.”

“Me either.” Colin falls back away from Graves, suddenly exhausted. He looks down and sees Credence, messy and covered in his own cum as well as Graves’. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

Graves immediately, wandlessly summons washcloths from the bathroom and hands one to Colin. Together they clean up Credence and coax him to drink a little water, wrap him up in the softest blankets they can find, tell him how well he did, how good he was for them. Credence snuggles up close to Colin and tucks his head under his chin. “You did good too,” he says warmly, sighing in pleasure as Colin rubs his back.

“You did,” Graves confirms with a smile, reaching over to stroke Colin’s hair. “You’re a natural.” His eyes suddenly go soft. “Are _you_ all right? It can be a little…disconcerting, the first time you use a crop on someone.”

Colin takes a moment to consider that and, is able to confirm that yes, actually, he is okay. “I don’t think I would be,” he admits to Graves, “if that had been a punishment kind of scenario…if I’d had to talk down to him, hit him like I was trying to hurt him. I…I don’t think I can do that.”

“Don’t worry,” Credence assures him. “I’d never ask you to.”

Graves nods solemnly. “And even if we did you could always tell us no.” He gives Colin’s hair one more stroke, a light tug, and then lets go. “So always tell us if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I will,” Colin promises. He squeezes Credence close, smiling when Graves snuggles up and wraps an arm around them both. “Want to watch something?” he asks, indicating the firestick remote on the nightstand.

Credence perks up. _“Great British Baking Show?”_

Both Colin and Graves laugh, but Graves has already summoned the remote. “You got it, sweetheart.”

Colin rests his head against the top of Credence’s and breathes in his scent and…yeah, he thinks, as he watches Graves, who once feared all things with a screen, activates the voice-operated Alexa as if he’s been doing it his whole life, yeah, this is good. He can do this.


End file.
